


In Your Heart Shall Burn

by welseykels



Series: Dragon Age: Emmalee Trevelyan [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Kiss, Inquisition Cook AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9355448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welseykels/pseuds/welseykels
Summary: Inquisition Cook AU: Cullen asks what Emma will do now that the Inquisition will no longer be needed in Haven now that the Breach has been closed, what will become of their budding relationship.  Until an army of Templars interrupts them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my writing masterpage on tumblr!](https://welseykels.tumblr.com/writing)

The Herald of Andraste had closed the Breach.

And everyone was drinking and eating more than their fill in celebration.  Haven’s tavern was full to bursting, Emma and Flissa barely keeping up with the demand.  Emma made a mental note to remind Flissa to hire more staff during the meal hours, rather than just the two of them now that the population of Haven was growing because of the Herald’s efforts.  

A flash of gold and red caught her eye as she heard the door to the Tavern opened again, bringing in a burst of cool air with it to the warm room.  She gave a quick smile as she caught his eye, fully expecting the Commander of the Inquisition to take his place at the table he usually took on the far side of the fire, off to one side and in a corner of it’s own.  He’d been making his regular visits for weeks now since they’d made their deal, and he’d barely ever wavered from that routine.  Perhaps, due to the celebrations tonight, maybe he’d even join in with some of his soldiers. Unlikely, but perhaps, until he did something she didn’t expect at all, taking an empty seat at the bar that separated her and Flissa from the rest of the room.

His smile was broad when he caught her eye a second time, settling down in his seat and much closer now.  He seemed understandably more at ease than when the Herald had left with Cassandra at their side to close the Breach for good this time, even if he was still dressed in his formal armour of the Commander - never able to take a break from the man he had become.

“Will you be here the whole of the night?”  His voice was quiet, barely above the chatter of the crowd gathered inside, wanting only her to hear once he’d finished the meal she’d set in front of him.  She saw Flissa’s smirk out of the corner of her eye and she fought the urge to roll her own eyes at it, she was the only other person who had been paying attention to the stolen glances and conversations between them since that night she had disappeared from the tavern with a bowl of stew.  Save the Inquisition’s spymaster of course, and her informants, and maybe… maybe it was better not to think of all who knew that the Commander had been flirting with a kitchen girl.  

But before she could open her mouth to answer him herself, her employer spoke up in her place, Flissa’s voice conspiratorially low.  “The night staff will be here shortly after sunset, Commander.  She’ll be free to go after that, I promise.”

Emma gave him an apologetic shrug as she spooned out another bowl of stew, letting the answer stand for her.  He’d already been aware of Flissa’s knowledge of who she spent some of her spare time with, it was hard not to notice on the nights she joined him for her supper at his little table in the corner.  “Enjoy your night, Cullen, the Inquisition’s earned it.”

“I would enjoy it more with you at my side.”

She felt the heat flood to her face at that, the tone something she’d never heard from him before.  She wasn’t sure if it was the ale he had beside him or if it was their victory, but he seemed bolder tonight.

“Is that an order, Commander?”  She gave him a grin, recovering quickly and laughing gently behind her hand when a blush rose to his cheeks as he remembered himself.

“I-”  He took another long drag of his drink, before adding quickly, “not an order, more of a wish, really.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but a call of “Oi! More stew and ale!” had her attentions elsewhere for the time being.  Mercifully, the remaining hours before sunset melted away quickly before she was hanging the apron she wore on the hook behind the bar.

He was smiling fully as she made to sit beside him on a stool, until he stood at the same time, sheepishly rubbing at his neck with his hand.  “Would you like to go for a walk?”

She nodded, a smile growing on her own lips again as they wandered out of the tavern and away from the gathered crowds, down the edge of the frozen lake below them.  They were silent, both having had the buzz of other people’s conversations for too many hours on end today.  He made as if he wanted to hold her hand at times, but then would think better of it before letting it fall back to his side once more.

“The Breach is closed.”  He was speaking as quietly as he had in the tavern, but she could hear him clearing now without other’s voices in the way. “I’m not sure what this will mean for the Inquisition’s future in Haven now.” He sighed.  “We won’t be able to stay here much longer, not with the Breach taken care of. Our welcome will run out now that we no longer have the need to be here.  We’ll have to move to wherever we’re needed for the conflict between the mages and Templars.”  He averted his gaze from her with the last few words, the two sides of the fighting hitting far too close to what they had been before, to what she still was now.

He stayed silent when she said nothing, not quite knowing where he was going with his words.  When he finally looked back at her, he looked unsure, maybe frightened even.  “Will you be staying here in Haven?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I want…” He huffed, “I don’t want you to feel pressured to leave.  Not because of me.  I can’t ask you to come with us if you don’t want to.”

She hadn’t expect this.  Hadn’t expected whatever flirtation, and whatever attraction she had to him to last beyond the Inquisition’s need here.  Not that she hadn’t wanted that, more than anything, but she hadn’t fully expected him to want her as much as he might with his confession.  “You want me to come with the Inquisition?”

The colour had come back to his cheeks, whether from the cold air around them or from what he was about to say, she wasn’t sure.  “ _With me_.  Not the Inquisition, exactly.  It sounds foolish, but I’d like if you came with me.”

 _Oh_.

“You’d want me to do that?”

“Maker, yes.  I’m asking, aren’t I?”  He laughed a little, nervously, and slid his hand up to her face.  The leather of his glove was surprising soft as his thumb ran over her bottom lip, gently coaxing her teeth to loosen their grip on it.  She hadn’t even realized she’d been doing so since she’d spoken.  

And then she nodded, causing a smile she wasn’t quite sure she’d fully seen since that first night she’d brought him stew.  And she smiled widely in return.

“May I kiss you?”  His thumb fell to her chin, tilting her face towards his.

Her voice was huskier than she had meant it to be when she answered that he could, eyes closing as his lips neared hers.

 _And then the warning bells rang_.

It was a blur as he took hold of her hand, fear of a different kind taking over as they ran back towards the front gates, trying not to pay attention to the glow of torches cresting the mountain behind them.  How had they not noticed them before?

“Get inside the Chantry, Emma.  Go!”

She ran faster than she thought she would have been able to, not thinking of anything but the words he’d said until she passed the tavern. She saw him still by the front gates when she glanced back, directing his soldiers by the Herald’s side.

And then she froze.  Those were Templars coming down the hills.  She could sense the hum of lyrium wafting down the mountain, singing to the magic running through her own veins.

Maker, she wasn’t a fighter, couldn’t stay outside.  It would simply be an immediate death sentence, even with her magic.  But she could protect.

He wouldn’t notice if she detoured, there had been families in Haven, children orphaned by the destruction of the Temple.  As fast as she could, she aided their caregivers - those who’d taken it upon themselves during their pilgrimage to help those who had lost much more than their Divine.  Some clung to Emma’s skirts as they rushed towards the Chantry, making movement difficult.  But somehow, somehow they’d made it across the yard… as they heard the army finally descend on the village.

She was tempted to go back, to help Flissa at the tavern.  Maker, how many of their soldiers were soaked in ale and wine?  But then Cullen and the Herald came through the doors, and she was needed elsewhere, getting those they could down into the basement of the Chantry as he ordered.  It was wet and dark down there, and she felt more trapped there than she had ever felt in the circle.  Stone wall in front of her and army of Templars behind her.  Void take them all.

She had never wanted more than in that moment to believe in the Maker, that the Herald was who the whispers said they were.  That somehow, someway, they would all make it out of this.

She needed to know what it was like back above ground, maybe place a barrier on the doors, stop them by a few moments at least.  Emma came back up the stairs, half expecting Cullen to not be there, to be fighting whatever monsters had come down the mountain for them all.  But there he was, looking completely stricken as the Herald rushed out the Chantry doors with some of their companions at their side, as if he had just asked them to die for all of them.

“Cullen?”

Nothing. _Maybe he had asked them to do so_.

“Cullen, what do we do now?”

He seemed to snap back to himself, to his role as Commander, his grip tightening on the handle of his sword at his side.  “Is everyone below?”

“I think so. As many as we could get into the Chantry.”  She flicked her gaze back to the doors. “What do we do now?”

“We get as far from Haven as we can.  We have a way out.”

The wind was biting when they found the secret door out of the Chantry that led deep into the mountains.  He should have been first, leading them all downward through the snow, but there he was, last to leave the Chantry, last to make sure that everyone that could, got out.  She made her way back to him as she helped those she could, including aiding Flissa onto some of the wagons they’ve been able to salvage from the Chantry, after one of the beams from the tavern had come down heavy on her leg.  Maker, she should have gone back to her friend, but there was nothing she could change now, the Herald had done what she could not.

She didn’t use her magic often, especially since her tower had fallen, but she did so then, placing an energy barrier over the door after Cullen shut it behind them, at least to stall anyone who found the same path they did.  The purple glow of her storm magic crackled in the growing dark around them.

“I don’t think I’ve even seen you use your magic…” Cullen’s voice seemed stunned almost, as if he’d forgotten the very thing that had changed so much of the course of her life.

“I haven’t needed you to.”  She fumbled for something else to say. “I barely use it for anything beyond lighting the fireplaces or warming food really.”  There was hardly any use for a mage who can call lightning so easily to her fingertips where cooking is involved.  Sometimes she wondered why fire hadn’t been where the strongest pull of her magic went to, it certainly would have been much more convenient.

And the night became a blur as she aided those who were too small to wade through the deep snow on their own or those who were much too frail.  No one could ignore the sound of snow crashing down over Haven behind them as they went.  Or when the Herald’s party returned… without the Herald.

It was hours of walking until the leaders of the Inquisition finally found a place where they could make camp, feeling far enough away from the destruction behind them to take at least a few hours break.

And then the arguing had started between the remaining leaders of the Inquisition. How best to proceed, should they send searches for the Herald, was there any hope that they had survived?  How that same mouth that had almost kissed her away from the lights of the fires could be set in such a straight line now as his brow furrowed, she wasn’t sure.  They argued for hours it seemed, not resting until they caught movement up on the mountain.

 _The Herald had survived_.

Cullen and Cassandra were rushing up the slope, and well, the murmurs began in the camp.   _Had Andraste delivered the Herald from harm again?_

Well, not harm entirely.  Emma was across the camp from the healer’s tent, but she didn’t need to be close to see the blood that had soaked through their leather and armour.  No one could ignore the screams as the healers reset bones.  Mercifully, the Herald slept through the remainder of the night, most likely unconscious from the shock.  She didn’t see Cullen again after that, still busy arguing with the other leaders she supposed or, hopefully, determining a plan out how to get out of these maker-forsaken mountains.  She passed the time with cooking, everyone still needing to eat, there was no getting passed that, and everyone knew where or whom to go to when their bellies began to rumble.

And then the Herald woke and suddenly everyone was singing.  She wasn’t Andrastian, has spent far too long sitting in the Circle’s Chantry pews being looked down on for what she was.  But she knew that song, hummed a few bars along with the gathered survivors.  It was hopeful, taking her away from the fact that they were lost in the mountains in winter, with a dragon on their tails, their homes from the past few months buried in snow.

The song changed something in the group, things became lighter after the voices died down.  The Herald had survived, there was surely joy that could be taken from that.

“Could we continue our walk?”

She nearly jumped from Cullen’s voice behind her as she sat by the fire taking a break from cooking, her nerves completely gone from what had happened to them all.  She nodded and soon fell into step with him as they started walking through the camp.  

She had nothing for the cold but her light coat, which would have suited her fine near all the bonfires in Haven, but here, in the mountains? She’d been tucked in blankets when she could or by the fire cooking, but now, alone with Cullen?  She knew he’d caught her shivering when he shrugged out of his surcoat before draping it over her shoulders.

“But what about you?”

“The cold won’t bother me.”  He scratched at the nape of his neck.  “If fact, I prefer it really.”

The fabric smelled like him, the scent of lemon - which she had yet to figure out if it was from his armour polish or whatever he denied he styled his hair with - was comforting, more so than she was willing to admit.  She cuddled into the fabric and fur, the tips of her fingers only peeking out from where she held it closed around her.  The fur mercifully hung low enough to cover the slots where his arms would have went through, as she pulled it as tight as she could.

“Better?”

“Better.”

They walked in silence until they came to the very edge of camp, just passed the glow of the outermost torches, and it was she who broke the quiet between them this time.

“I was afraid for you tonight.”  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the fire.  “Seeing you, down there by the gates, worrying about you.  It’s foolish, I know, you’re the Com-”

And then his lips were crushing against hers.

Startled, she dropped the fabric she’d been clutching onto.  It took her a moment to catch up, to begin moving her lips against his, but when she did, his hands slid from her cheeks, one down to the nape of her neck, the other just above her hip.  Her own hands clutched around the edges of the fabric wrap he wore over his armour, matching that of his surcoat.

His lips were mostly soft, slightly chapped from the cold wind, just as she was sure her own were.  But he was warm, his hand pulling her closer the more they deepened the kiss.  They were both breathless when he was finally the first who pulled away.

“I’m sorry, that was…” He averted his gaze, terrified he’d made a mistake in acting on their earlier feelings, “really nice.”

“You don’t regret it do you?”  The words were spilling out of her before she could think better of them, before she could think of how she’d feel if he said he did.

“No!”  Alarm rang through his voice, until he softened, running his thumb over her lip as he had hours before.  “No, not at all.”

This time, she initiated the kiss, pulling him closer until their lips met.  She could feel his smile against hers, feeling the way his fingers would grasp and then let go and then grasp again at her hip.

But even so, even with his assurances that he wanted her to come with him, with his kiss, doubts still lingered.  They were the same ones that had been plaguing her for weeks now, getting louder anytime someone’s eyes would linger over her and Cullen whenever they could get a moment to speak to one another.

“What do we do now? You’re the Commander of the Inquisition and I’m just… I’m just a cook.”

He must have expected her to bring up their vast difference in station within the Inquisition at some point, for his answer came far swifter than she had expected.  “You are so much more.  Outside of the Inquisition, I have no titles, not after I left the order.  I’m just a farmer’s son.”  It wasn’t lost on her that he had risen so much, while she had fallen from the noble title and estate she had known as a child.  “I would…” And then his shyness came again.  “I would very much like to court you.  I mean, if you would like that, too.”

She had no family, not anymore where it mattered, no ties for Haven now that the tavern was likely nothing more than broken beams beneath the snow.  She could have a future if she continued with the Inquisition, with Cullen.  The thought of that made her feel light and giddy.

“I would like that.”


End file.
